


hollow but we're brave

by smartlove



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Angst, Exes to Lovers, Idols, M/M, Nct Dream Leader Mark Lee, Non-Linear Narrative, Soloist Jaemin, kind of, mark has Alot Of Feelings, very loosely based off cruel summer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-10
Updated: 2020-04-10
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:42:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23576374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smartlove/pseuds/smartlove
Summary: Loving Jaemin was like a fever dream, but losing him was a nightmare.
Relationships: Mark Lee/Na Jaemin
Comments: 29
Kudos: 123





	hollow but we're brave

**Author's Note:**

> y'all need to stop letting me listen to taylor swift while i write

Mark wakes up in the middle of a storm. There’s lightning in his veins, thunder loud and fierce inside of his mind. He opens his blackout curtains to see the sun shining brightly outside. It hits his face and the thunder rumbles louder. There’s a sharp pain behind his eyes and his stomach lurches in warning. Something was wrong.

Oh right, he’s hungover, that’s what it is. 

He stumbles to the bathroom, his vision still clouded with grey as he found his way on muscle memory alone. He unloads the contents of his stomach into the toilet, his headache growing stronger with each passing second. He wipes his mouth with his sleeve and leans against the shower, pressing his head to the cool glass.

“You good?” An eerily familiar voice calls, one that shouldn’t be here right now. Mark jolts up, his vision clears and the storm passes. Na Jaemin is staring at him, holding a glass of water in his hand and looking like he just woke up.

“Jaemin?” Mark calls, not entirely sure if he was still dreaming or not. “What are you doing here?” 

“You don’t remember?” Jaemin asks, he walks over to where Mark is sitting.

Jaemin’s hand grazes over his as he hands him the glass of water, and the memories come back to Mark in foggy detail. 

_Getting off the phone with his furious manager, taking a cab to a random bar, throwing back shot after shot after shot._ He winces at the memory, but how did Jaemin play into all that?

“I guess you don’t” He says, “You called me, wasted as fuck and begged me to pick you up.”

_Throwing his hands around Jaemin’s neck, mumbling “I knew you’d come,” into his shirt. Jaemin’s tired sigh as he drags Mark out of the bar. Crying in the backseat of his car when Jaemin asks him how he’s doing._

His skin flushes with embarrassment, how could he be so reckless?

“I’m sorry,” Mark says, his voice raw.

“What were you thinking Mark?” Jaemin says, exasperation evident in his tone. Mark adds this moment to the long list of times he’s disappointed Jaemin Na. “What if someone saw you? You can’t afford another scandal!”

He tries not to think about Jaemin’s words. About the meaning behind them. He tries not to think about how Jaemin was probably keeping tabs on him, how he was _worried_ about him. 

“I know, I know.”

“What’s going on?” His voice is softer now, so soft that it hurt. “This isn’t like you.”

Mark massages the front of his head with his fingers, willing the pain away. “I’m fine, sorry for troubling you last night.” 

He stands up too quickly and his body warns him against it, he stumbles and almost falls to the ground but Jaemin puts an arm around him to steady him. 

Mark pulls away. 

Jaemin sighs, his hand hovering awkwardly between him and Mark, “It’s not just that, you said some...weird things last night,”

_“I’m sorry for being a coward,”_

_“Please take me back,”_

_“You’re everything to me Nana.”_

Mark blinks back the unwelcome images. 

“I don’t remember.”

“Don’t lie to me.” Jaemin replies immediately. It’s almost a snap, like he’s at his breaking point and holding himself back.

“Thank you for picking me up last night.” He says. He side stepped Jaemin and walked past him, the bathroom walls were beginning to close in on him and he needed an out. 

He steps into the lounge, there’s blankets thrown over the couch where he’s assuming the other boy slept. Jaemin follows him out.

“Again, I’m sorry for inconveniencing you but if that’s all I have a busy schedule today.” 

Jaemin bites out a bitter laugh. “So what, we’re just not gonna talk about it?” Frustration crawls up his tone and Mark is almost afraid to look back at him.

He scolds his expression into one of indifference and turns to face Jaemin. “There’s nothing to talk about, I was drunk, I didn’t know what I was saying.”

“Bullshit,” Jaemin says coldly. “Last night was the most honest you’ve ever been.”

“I didn’t mean any of it, maybe you should just go.” Mark says. Jaemin was stubborn but so was Mark. 

“I just saved your ass from social suicide, the least you could do is tell me the truth.”

“I don’t owe you _anything.”_ Mark spits out, “You don’t owe me either, why did you even come last night?” 

“Because you called me? I wasn’t going to leave you stranded.” 

“You could’ve. Johnny would’ve come.” He says, although based on the last conversation he had with his manager, he wasn’t so sure.

“Stop changing the subject!” Jaemin’s shouting now. “Just tell me the truth, _please.”_

There’s a voice in Mark’s head telling him to do it. To give in and sink into Jaemin’s arms, let himself feel everything he had been repressing for so long.

“I told you,” He says, crossing his arms. “I didn’t mean it.”

Something shatters behind the brown of Jaemin’s eyes, and he has to look away. He has to swallow down his own sadness. This was for the best.

Jaemin is quick to collect himself. 

“I guess you’ll always be a fucking coward.” 

He storms past Mark. The slam of the apartment door as Jaemin leaves rattles through his spine. His entire body shakes with it, legs giving away as Mark drops to the floor, curling into himself as he replays the hurt look on Jaemin’s face over and over again.

***

Mark met Jaemin on a quiet summer night.

He’d heard of Jaemin before that, of course. The new shiny soloist who was already gaining fast popularity and earning SM a pretty penny after only one debut. Everywhere he walked in his company he saw the pink hair and toothy grin watching him almost condescending. Like he was saying _I have what you want._

When he actually met Jaemin though, it wasn’t like anything he expected.

It wasn’t the cotton candy smiles and warm beginnings he expected from the nation's sweetheart. It was actually the complete opposite. 

Mark was at an afterparty for an award show he didn’t remember the name of. Being the leader of his group meant it was of utmost importance that he made an appearance at the party, well, according to Johnny. He envied the rest of the kids who got to go home after their stage at the show.

After an hour of painful small talk with idols he barely knew and listening to producers try to pitch him new music ideas, he stepped outside the venue to get some well needed fresh air. He barely even had the time to take a sip of his wine. 

He welcomed the summer breeze, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath to mentally prepare himself for going back in and repeating the same routine.

When he opened them again he noticed a figure a few feet away from him, sitting on the steps leading up to the venue. He caught the familiar cloud of pink and walked closer. 

The boy looked up at his arrival, he was holding a bottle of liquor in his hands, that Mark could only assume was stolen from the open bar. He gave it a pointed look and instead of looking embarrassed or bashful at being caught with booze, the boy just grinned lazily at him.

“Mark Lee, right?” He said, words sloshing together like the contents of the bottle. “Leader of Nct Dream.” 

Mark nodded, he was intrigued by the boy so he sat down next to him. 

“I’m Na Jaemin.” He said, breath smelling of rum. 

“I know who you are.” Mark replied.

Jaemin just gives him a wolflike grin, all teeth and ravenous. “Right, of course you do. You want some?” 

He held the bottle towards Mark. He took the bottle from the other boy.

“If our staff caught you out here, you’d be fucked.” Mark told him, taking a swig from the bottle. 

“Are you gonna snitch on me, SM poster boy?” His tone is taunting, luring Mark in like a moth to light. 

And Mark takes the bait. “I could, what would people do if they found out the nation's sweetheart ditched an afterparty to drink alone?”

“Good thing I’m not alone,” Jaemin replied, not missing a beat. 

The silence took over for a bit, A car drove by, a bird chirped from a distance, there was a buzzing of electric wires.

And then, 

“I love your work, by the way.” 

Mark looked over at the boy in surprise, “You do?” 

He didn’t expect Jaemin to have even heard his music, let alone be a fan. That was when he learned not to predict anything from Jaemin, because he most likely would be wrong.

“Yeah, got me through my trainee days.” 

That was something Mark could understand. “It only gets worse from here,” He replied.

Jaemin laughed, it was something sorrowful. “Hear hear,” He rose the bottle to the night sky. The stars shine back down on them, uncaring of the two souls under them, drinking the night away. 

They didn’t exchange numbers that night. They didn’t have to, because Jaemin invited Mark back to his apartment. 

“Bold move, inviting me back here.” Mark had said to him as he pressed the boy against the mattress and unbuttoned his shirt. “What if I wasn’t into men?”

Jaemin just looked up at him, giving him that same smile that sent shivers down Mark’s spine. 

“I like to take risks.” 

***

Loving Jaemin was like a fever dream. All hot and hazy and a little bit delirious. Mark didn’t know where their relationship started and stopped, it was a hurricane of bathrooms at award shows, empty practice rooms and ditching their managers. It was Mark lying to his group members, getting scolded by makeup artists for the bruises on his skin, the lingering gaze Donghyuck gave him whenever he stumbled into practice late with no explanation.

But it was also writing songs about Jaemin, staying in the studio late just to find the perfect beat that would parallel the boy’s essence. Showing Jaemin the songs he wrote just to see his face light up with happiness, and another emotion that Mark was afraid to name.

It was surprising Jaemin with coffee at his music video shoots, soft touches under the fairy lights draped over Jaemin’s bed, hearing his unfiltered voice sing quietly but beautifully while he made breakfast.

It was this:

They were sitting on the grass by the Han River, close to 3am with their masks up and hoodies pulled all the way down. Jaemin was sitting in between Mark’s legs, back against his chest as they watched the water. It was cold, the change of seasons brought along a harsh wind which pricked at their skin. Mark pulled the blanket closer around his shoulders, wrapping them both in it.

“We should’ve just stayed in.” Jaemin said. “It’s freezing.”

“We never get to have dates outside.” Mark replied, his tone coming out sadder then he intended. 

Jaemin turned his head to look back at him, he pulled his mask down, revealing his slightly pink nose and pinker lips. 

“I’m sure if…” He trailed off, mist leaving his mouth as he spoke. “If we told our company they would help us out.”

Mark snorted. “They wouldn’t help us unless it helped them,”

Jaemi stays quiet for a moment, his eyes search Mark’s for something.

“I told my manager about us.” He said softly.

Mark swallowed thickly, “What did he say?”

“He’s not fond of it, but he said he won’t stop us.”

“Okay,” Mark replied, that was one of the better scenarios which regularly played in his head.

“Are you...are you going to tell your manager?” The boy sounded so hopeful, it cracked at Mark’s heart, the first of many.

“I don’t know if I can Jaem, I’m not even out to him.”

“I’m not going to rush you.” Jaemin replied, he placed a cold hand at Mark’s cheek. Mark leaned in to press their foreheads together. “This just feels so temporary...like a fleeting moment that’ll soon be forgotten… I just felt like telling someone would make it feel more real.”

“And did it?” 

Jaemin sighed, he pressed his lips against Mark’s. And just like everything else, his lips were cold. He tilted his head and opened his mouth, letting Mark in. 

“Someone could see us.” Mark mumbled into his mouth. Even though there was no one around, they could never know who or what could be lurking behind the darkness, waiting for the perfect moment to jump out. 

Jaemin pulled away for a moment, he took the blanket around Mark’s shoulders and pulled it over them completely. A safety bubble away from the rest of the world. An escape. Mark could feel nothing but darkness and Jaemin’s mouth on his, drawing out sounds from him like it was a game.

“To answer your question,” Jaemin began breathily as Mark trailed kisses down his neck. “No it didn’t, I’m beginning to think everything about you is unreal Mark Lee.”

Mark was unsure if that’s meant as a compliment or not, but he didn’t ask. Instead he bit down on the sensitive skin of Jaemin’s neck and let his actions do the talking for him.

***

Jaemin was untouchable when he was on stage. 

Under the artificial lights, coated in makeup and sweat while he looked at the audience with doe eyes and a shy smile. Then came the switch from his usual sunshine persona to something more dangerous, something darker, something Mark was a little more familiar with. His leather jacket, heavy chains and dark eyeliner look that made the crowd rumble. He wasn’t Mark’s then, he wasn’t even his own person. He belonged to the stage.

What was even more infuriating, was that he was untouchable offstage too. He walked into the backstage area and when he caught Mark’s eye, he looked away like Mark was just a stranger. His manager introduced him to Mark like they haven’t spent nights together in each other's arms, he bows his head and smiles. All cotton candy, no bitter bite. He introduced himself to the rest of the Dream members, he told them he was a big fan, Jisung looked slightly starstruck in his presence. It made Mark want to coo at the young boy. This version of Jaemin came sealed in plastic and wrapped in bubble wrap. He was a porcelain doll, pretty to look at but too fragile to touch. 

Jaemin excused himself, and Mark watched him disappear into his own changing room. He wanted to follow so badly, but he was two minutes away from his own performance. They were halfway through promotions and Mark couldn’t let himself get distracted. The stage director called out for NCT Dream, Mark allowed himself one last look at the shut door with Jaemin’s name on it before getting into performance mode. 

Jaemin may belong on the stage but Mark was born on it, the stage was made for him, not the other way round. And he was about to go claim his place. 

(And later, when Dream stumbled off stage sweaty and high off the crowd’s cheers, Mark’s phone vibrated with a message from Jaemin, informing him that the dressing room was empty, that the boy was waiting for him. Mark excused himself to go to the bathroom, and if anyone noticed he went to Jaemin’s room instead, they didn’t say anything about it.)

***

Mark had never seen Jaemin cry. 

Not once. Not when a hate article about him trended online, not when his trainer ripped his dance technique apart after working him to the bone. Not when he watched movies or listened to sad songs, or when he was given bad news after bad news after––

Not when he was upset or angry or frustrated.

The first time Mark saw Jaemin cry, was when he told Mark he loved him.

They were in Jaemin’s car. He drove them out to a lookout point to watch the sunrise. All their dates happened under the security blanket of the night sky, they never once met up during the day. It was safer that way, Jaemin had said to him. Although, Mark suspected that it wasn’t the only reason.

It was still dark when Jaemin cut off the engine, the lookout point was completely empty. They were safe. 

Neither of them moved to get out of the car, Jaemin turned to face Mark instead and leaned in to kiss him. 

Just like everything else about Jaemin, kissing him was a game. It was a push and pull, a challenge and a dare wrapped up into one. Mark pulled Jaemin’s hair, Jaemin bit his lip, Mark’s grip tightened, Jaemin groaned lowly, Mark swallowed the sound.

Jaemin pulled away. 

He was just inches away from Mark’s face, breathing heavy, cheeks flushed. His cold hands against Mark’s face were gentle, he ran a thumb over Mark’s swollen bottom lip.

“How do you feel about me?” 

Mark’s eyes widened in surprise. They didn’t really talk about that stuff. 

“You know how I feel about you,” Mark said. “You’ve heard my songs.” 

“I wanna hear you say it.” His voice was barely above a whisper, heavy with emotion.

Mark leaned in closer and brushed his lips against the corner of Jaemin’s mouth. “You’re so important to me Jaem,” He mumbled against Jaemin’s skin.

Jaemin pulled away, “I love you.” He breathed out, like it was his dying breath. 

“I know it’s stupid and reckless and we’re temporary and this could never ever work out but I’m sorry, I can’t help it. I love you.” 

Tears spilled over the corners of his eyes and down his cheeks, he gave a wet scoff and wiped at them, like he was frustrated that they were falling in the first place. 

Mark grabbed Jaemin’s hands and pulled them away from prodding at his own face

He's overwhelmed, this wasn’t what being with Jaemin was. Being with Jaemin was supposed to be easy, there wasn’t supposed to be tears, and emotional talk and whatever the sinking feeling in his chest was. 

The sky was lighter now, pinks mixing with blue over a starry palette. The stars slowly disappeared, and with that their blanket of safety. Mark didn’t know how to be around Jaemin without it.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered. “I’m so sorry.” 

Jaemin cried harder but he didn't move away from Mark’s space. Mark wiped the tears away from his cheeks, Jaemin didn’t look pretty when he cried. Broken didn’t suit him.

He pulled the boy in for a hug, arms wrapping around him as Jaemin pressed himself against Mark’s shoulder, he felt his shirt dampen. They missed the sunset that morning, Jaemin didn’t stop crying, Mark didn’t stop hating himself.

***

Dream go on tour for a month and Mark is thrown into a whirlwind of translating for interviews, hours of gruelling practice and night after night on stage. All while pretending he wasn’t absolutely heartbroken because Jaemin refused to return any of his texts or calls. 

After that morning Jaemin had driven him home and Mark hadn’t heard from him since, and two days later Mark was on a plane to the U.S. feeling empty when he should’ve been excited. He sent apology after apology but he knew it wasn’t enough for Jaemin. 

Jaemin wanted more and Mark wasn’t sure if he could give that to him. Not when it would get in the way of everything he had been working towards. He sacrificed a life of normalcy for this, he left his friends and family, he left Canada, he left privacy and nights of sleep for this.

For this, standing on stage with his best friends, his brothers, the roar of the crowd running through his veins, fuelling him. He couldn’t ever imagine giving it all up, it was his high, his catharsis, he lived off it. It was everything to Mark.

He finally heard from Jaemin when they were in New York, about to play Madison Square Garden. He was sitting in the waiting room pumped up on nerves, while the others were getting their makeup done, Donghyuck was vlogging a few metres away from him. His phone rang loudly, startling both him and the other boy. Jaemin’s face popped up on the screen.

“Holy shit.” Mark said, unsure whether or not he was imagining things. 

Donghyuck turned back to glare at him, “I’m filming, can you not fucking swear?” 

Mark gave him an apologetic smile and excused himself to take the call.

A frantic voice on the other line began speaking before Mark could greet him.

“You don’t have to say it back.” 

Mark blinked, “What?”

He heard Jaemin clear his throat. “You don’t have to say it back, it was unfair of me to pressure you.”

“Jaem you didn’t––”

“Let me speak.” 

Mark held his tongue, despite all the things he wanted to say about how much he missed the boy.

“I missed you, I love you. You don’t have to say it because I already know how you feel. You show me enough that I don’t need you to tell me.”

His words crawled their way into Mark’s skin and bruised his ribcage. Jaemin was brave. He was braver than Mark would ever be. He felt so undeserving of it. How could he be so understanding, so perfect?

It made Mark want to do something stupid. It made him want to give up everything for him.

Jaemin gave him more of a high then the stage ever could.

He let himself be selfish, just this once. He let himself have both.

“I missed you too,” Mark breathed into the phone, his voice stuttered with emotion. “These past few weeks have sucked without you.”

Jaemin snorted, “I’m sure that’s not true. Aren’t you playing MSG tonight?”

“So you were keeping up with me.” Mark couldn't hide his smile.

“Oh don’t sound so smug, it’s all anyone is talking about.”

Mark laughed. He was glad they weren’t fighting anymore, Jaemin helped him breathe.

The stage director informed them that they were fifteen minutes away from showtime. His boys were all huddled together in a circle, Jisung looks back and gestures for Mark to join them. 

“I have to go Nana, talk to you later?” He asked, sounding hopeful.

“Good luck, you're gonna kill it!” Jaemin cheered, “Call me after the show and tell me how it goes?” 

“Of course I will.” 

Jaemin blew kisses into the phone, Mark laughed and half heartedly hung up. They were going to be okay.

***

Mark and Jaemin break up as winter fades into spring. Outside, the cherry blossoms fell like snow and inside the two boys were arguing loudly. 

They were in the kitchen, Jaemin was wearing Mark’s favourite hoodie, Mark was wearing Jaemin’s merch which the other boy had bought for him as a joke. It was going well, until it wasn’t.

They were supposed to be making breakfast together, Mark was going to tell Jaemin about his new solo project over pancakes and iced coffee. But instead, they were yelling at each other while the pancakes burned at the stove.

“You’re unbelievable, Mark.” He had said, arms crossed and cheeks red with anger. He usually told Mark this, except this time there was poison in his voice. 

“What do you want from me, Jaemin?” Mark cried out, “We both knew going in that this would be hard.” 

“You’re making it hard! It feels like I’m the only one who takes risks for this relationship, you never put us first.” 

“I can’t put us first! And neither should you!” 

There was a split second where the armour Jaemin wore on cracked and Mark saw the hurt behind his tired eyes. But it’s gone in an instant and rage took over once more.

“Fuck you,” He spat out, “You are so career obsessed, but what are you gonna have when it’s all over, when you’re old and played out and fucking alone because you pushed everyone you cared about away.”

Mark blinked, Jaemin’s words playing on a loop, his ears rang with raw honesty. He was right. Something clicked inside Mark. 

“You’re right.” He said, he stepped forward. “You’re right.”

“What–”

Mark reached out and grabbed Jaemin’s arms.

“We should break up.” 

Jaemin ripped his arms away, “What?” He spat out in disbelief.

“You’re right, I’ll never change, I’ll always put my career first and you don’t deserve that.”

“Mark–”

But Mark didn’t let him speak. He stepped forward once more and cupped Jaemin’s face in his hands. 

“I love you, Jaemin.” His voice broke, but he kept it together. “But this–– this is for the best.”

Jaemin’s eyes widened, they sparkled with unshed tears. Since that morning in Jaemin’s car, Mark had seen the boy cry many times, for many reasons. It always hurt the most when he cried because of Mark.

He wiped away the tears as they fell.

“You said it.” Jaemin whispered, “Out of all the times you choose to say it, you say it when you’re fucking dumping me.”

Mark felt his own tears fall. “I’m sorry Jaemin, but this is for the best.”

Jaemin stepped back from Mark’s hold, he wiped angrily at his face.

“You’re so fucking selfish.” He said brokenly, the anger drained from his voice leaving nothing but bitter despair.

Mark’s hoodie thrown onto the floor, the smell of burning pancakes and the slam of the front door. Jaemin disappeared from Mark’s life quickly as he entered.

Mark was never one to take risks, anyway.

***

Mark and Jaemin broke up. Mark threw himself into his work. Nights that used to be spent at Jaemin’s apartment were spent in the studio, churning out the perfect melody for his solo. Days were spent in the practise room with his members, having schedule after schedule, writing in the free time he could steal, sleeping when the images of Jaemin’s broken eyes didn’t keep him up.

When his solo album was complete, the first person he showed was Donghyuck, and then the rest of his members, and then Johnny. They loved it. Of course they did. Jeno wrapped an arm around his shoulder and jokingly asked “ _Damn Hyung, who hurt you?”._

 _“I was the one who did the hurting.”_ He wanted to say, but instead he laughed it off. His members cheered him on and Johnny lovingly ruffled his hair. The praise felt like a thousand cuts, he was undeserving of it. 

He received the seal of approval from his higher ups and a proud smile from his boss. They schedule a day for the music release and music video shooting. Mark should be happy, this was everything he wanted. He should feel satisfied, his thirst was finally quenched. 

Instead, he felt hollow.

Mark was desperate to find something to make him feel alive again. He was tired of being a shell of a human being, he wanted to feel _something._

So he did what every idol looking for an escape did. He partied, he drank, he smoked. And it was fine until it wasn’t. It worked until he didn’t.

Until he woke up one morning, to the familiar ache in his skull welcoming him and his phone blowing up with notifications. Missed calls from Johnny, angry texts from Johnny, a link to an article from Donghyuck.

_NCT Dream’s Mark Lee spotten drunk with a mysterious stranger in his arms._

A blurry photo, his arms around the waist of a girl whose name he couldn’t remember, leaning in to whisper in her ear. He remembered this night at least, the girl was really cool, really pretty too. They talked for a bit but later, after a few more drinks, he leaned in and whispered to her that he liked men, one man specifically. Nothing else happened. She kissed his cheek and then they parted ways. But the media didn’t care about that, they only cared about the worst conclusions, and he handed them one on a silver platter. Mark silently thanked the universe and all it’s deities that he wasn’t caught with one of the many men his drunken self had stumbled into.

Mark’s solo gets postponed indefinitely, he’s put on social media ban, everyone is furious at him. SM’s legacy, their ace, their best success story, caught in a scandal. 

Mark finds he doesn’t care that much. 

***

There’s a cardboard box of Jaemin’s things in Mark’s apartment. It’s labelled _Do Not Open!!!_ In bright red and it sits in a corner collecting dust. Mark doesn’t need to open it to know what’s inside, he memorised every detail of the box when he packed it away. He had every intention to return it to Jaemin, but it never made it out the front door. He couldn’t let go even if he tried.

So, Mark sits on the floor of his living room, in the middle of a storm. The rain falls over him like tears and the thunder rumbles louder with each wrecked sob that he lets out. He sees the box and decides fuck it, he’s broken millions of his own rules because of Jaemin, what’s another?

He sits crossed legged, still hungover and eyes bloodshot, as he peels back the duct tape that sealed the box.

An orange hoodie that Jaemin wore the first night he slept over. Mark was sure the boy had left his hoodie there so Mark would invite him back. An eyeshadow palette that Jaemin’s stylist had gifted him. Once, he sat Mark down on the couch and attempted to do his makeup while following a tutorial online on _how to get a perfect cut crease._ The stuffed lion he gifted Mark before he left for an event in Thailand. _“His name is Minnie! Don’t love him more than me.”_ Jaemin had said to him before leaving. 

There was more. Jewellery, books, picture frames, letters. A piece of Jaemin was in every object, a fond memory attached, the warmth in it still alive like a flickering flame. 

Mark had made a mistake. He made a huge fucking mistake. 

He stands up, holding onto the edge of the couch as a dizzy spell overtakes him. He finds his phone and sends Johnny a text. 

**_To: Manager Hyung_ **

_i’m coming over_

_need to tell u smthing_

***

The passcode to Johnny’s apartment is Dream’s debut date. Mark walks in to the smell of eggs and ramen. Johnny greets him with a nod from where he’s standing over the stove.

Mark remembers with a flush of shame how his last conversation with the other man had gone. 

Arguments seemed to be Mark’s specialty lately. He sits down on the couch and asks Johnny to join him, heart beating violently against his ribcage.

Johnny turns off the stove and sits next to Mark, eyebrows set with worry,

“You okay, Mark?” 

He fidgets with the sleeve of his hoodie and casts his eyes downward.

“I’m sorry I’ve been such an asshole lately.” He bows his head.

“Hey,” Johnny says softly, he places a hand on Mark’s shoulder. “Look at me.”

It takes everything in him to do so, he shudders out an exhale and lifts his eyes to meet Johnny’s warm ones.

“I’m not gonna say it’s okay because it’s not. But I know you’ve been hurting lately, the kids have noticed it too.”

Mark sighs, his hands shake, he tightens his grip around his sleeves until his knuckles turn white.

“I met someone.” He says quietly.

“The girl from the picture?”

Mark shakes his head. “No, uh, it’s a guy... I’m gay.” He says. 

Johnny doesn’t look surprised, his expression is unreadable. 

“Cool,” He says.

“Cool?” Mark is confused now. 

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” Johnny says, a bit awkwardly. “Congrats? Welcome to the club?”

Mark blinks, his mind going blank. “What?”

“Kid, I’m gay too.”

“ _What?”_

“Did you not know? I’ve introduced you to my boyfriend, remember Jaehyun?” Johnny looks a bit amused. 

Mark groans, he grabs the couch cushion and buries his face in it. “I didn’t know he was your boyfriend! You called him bro!” His voice comes out muffled.

Johnny laughs. The air is clear from the previous tension, Mark feels like he can breathe again.

The other man runs a hand gently through his hair, coaxing Mark to lift his head off the pillow. 

“Who is the unlucky guy?” Johnny teases.

“Na Jaemin.”

Johnny’s eyes widen dramatically, it would be funny if Mark wasn’t shaking with nerves. 

“Na Jaemin? Rookie of the year Na Jaemin?” 

Mark lowers his gaze, flushing with embarrassment. He gives a small nod.

Johnny whistles slowly, “That’s– wow okay, I get why you didn’t tell anyone.”

“You’re not mad?”

Johnny gives him a warm smile, it wraps around Mark like a hug. He should’ve gone to Johnny about this much earlier.

“Of course not Markie,” He ruffles his hair, “Tell me about him.”

So Mark tells Johnny everything. He starts from that summer night at the afterparty, how Jaemin gave him the taste of freedom he’d craved his whole life, how every second with Jaemin made him feel like he feels when he’s performing on stage. He told Johnny about the break up, the yelling, the arguing, the crying. 

When he’s done there are tears running down his face. He was still hollow, shaped by nothing but regret. But at least now someone else knew.

“That’s it,” He finishes, voice heavy.

Johnny smacks him on the arm, the sound of the slap resonating in the empty room. Mark jumped up.

“Ouch!” He shrieked, “What the fuck was that for?”

“For being an idiot!” Johnny yells back. “You fucked up.”

“You think I don’t know that?” He mumbles.

Johnny sighs, his voice grows gentler as he speaks, like Mark was a scared deer that he was trying to calm down. In some ways, he felt a lot like that.

“Listen kid, I need you to really hear me when I say this.” 

He flicks Mark’s forehead so he meets his eyes. 

“You do this thing, where you have something really good and you ruin it for yourself. Whether it’s Jaemin, or your solo project, or something like giving other members your songs. I don’t know if you think your undeserving of it or something. But it’s okay to want things. It’s okay to want Jaemin and your career. You can have both, you deserve both.”

“I feel like I have neither now.” 

Johnny’s eyes are warm, “This scandal is gonna blow over and people will forget. You’ve come too far for something as stupid as this to tear you down. As for Jaemin, you need to talk to him.”

Mark groans. Johnny is right, he usually was, but Mark wasn’t going to tell him this. Instead he throws himself into Johnny’s embrace, flopping on top of the other man, leaning his whole weight on him. Johnny makes a noise of protest but relaxes and wraps an arm around Mark, letting the younger boy cuddle into him. 

“Later,” Mark mumbles, eyes growing heavy. “I’ll talk to him later.” 

He lets Johnny’s soft humming and warm hands in his hair lull him to sleep, catching up on the weeks of it he missed. 

***

Mark thinks he’s too late. 

His texts and calls go unanswered, he doesn’t see Jaemin around the company, and Mark gets a sick sense of deja vu from it all.

He’s in the practice room, cheek pressed against the cool floor and drenched in sweat while he listened to Jaemin’s voicemail for the millionth time. He was starting to feel pathetic. 

“Starting to?” Donghyuck muses, pressing a cold water bottle to Mark’s neck and forcing him to sit up. “You’ve been pathetic this whole time.” 

Mark glares at him and steals the water bottle from the other boy’s grasp. He had told the other boys about Jaemin after his conversation with Johnny. They reacted expectedly, frustrated at his secrecy, teasing him for the rising blush that grew when he spoke of the boy, laughter and kind eyes and warm hugs. Nothing less from Mark’s boys.

Renjun ruffles his hair as he walks past, getting back into position as the five minute break runs out much too soon and the rest of the members trickle back into the room. 

“Still no luck, loverboy?” Renjun teases. 

“Nope.” Mark calls sadly, he stands up and takes his own position. 

He catches Jeno’s curious gaze in the mirror, the boy had been uncharacteristically silent for the entire break. Mark shoots him a questioning look and Jeno just shakes his head, mouthing _later_ at him and turning his attention back to the choreographer as he enters the room. 

Later is when practice ends and Jeno waits until they are in the last two in the room and shows him an article on his phone screen mumbling “ _Sorry, I thought you would’ve heard by now.”_

Later, is when Mark realises that he is too late.

His eyes scan over the words and when he doesn’t process them he reads them over and over until Jeno moves his phone and gives Mark a worried look. He’s shoved underwater and Jeno’s concerned words are nothing but ringing in his ears. 

Jaemin is going on tour for six months. His first world tour, taking him from across Asia, Europe and America. The first date is set for tomorrow night. 

It shouldn’t be a big deal, they’ve had schedules that have taken them overseas before, and it was fine. But this felt like the final grains of sand falling to the bottom of the hourglass, this felt like an end. Time was up and he could only flip the glass over in six months, giving Jaemin enough time to move on from Mark, forget Mark, find someone else much more worthy of his time and affections. 

Jeno broke through the water and lay a grounding hand on Mark’s shoulder, he broke out of his downward spiral and shot the other boy a grateful look.

“He hasn’t left yet.” Jeno says, his voice more clear now. “His flight for Japan is tomorrow morning, he probably turned his phone off because he’s preparing for the tour.” 

“How do you know all this?” Mark asks. 

Jeno's ears turn pink. “Uh...I’m kind of friends with Liu Yangyang? He’s one of Jaemin’s backup dancers.” He runs his hand through his hair and avoids Mark’s eyes.

Mark gives him a playful grin, he just couldn’t resist calling out Jeno’s sudden shyness.

“Just friends, huh?” 

Jeno’s ears turn grow a furious red and he shoves Mark. “Shut up, focus on your own failing love life.” 

“Ouch Jen,” Mark says, laughing through his words. He clutches his chest and feigns a grimace. “That one really hurt.” 

Jeno just rolls his eyes and drags Mark out of the empty practice room. “Come on, if we find Johnny we can force him to drive you to Jaemin’s place.”

***

Loving Jaemin was a fever dream but losing him was like a nightmare. An endless nightmare that Mark didn’t wake up from until he Jaemin opened the door to his apartment, wide eyed and messy haired and wearing a strangely familiar green hoodie while he stared at Mark in shock.

“Mark?” Jaemin asks, “What are you doing here?”

The speech Mark had prepared escapes his mind as he stares at the hoodie that Jaemin was currently drowned in. 

“Is that my hoodie?” He asks. The weakened flame of hope flickering in his chest once more.

“What...oh.” Jaemin says, looking down at his own clothes as a blush crawled up his cheek. “I was packing and I couldn’t find any clothes so I…” He trails off and then shakes himself out of it.

He crosses his arms and gives Mark a hardened stare, “What are you doing here?” He repeats. The confusion trickled out of his tone and was replaced with something more defensive.

Mark opens his mouth and then closes it again. No words coming out. He sighs running a hand through his hair and allowing himself a deep breath. _Come on Mark, you got this._

“You’re the most important thing in my life Jaemin,” He blurts out. “Not my career, not fame, not anything else, it’s you. And I’m sorry for making you feel so unimportant, so... _temporary.”_

He feels his hands shake so he curls them into fists by his side. “The other night when I was drunk, I wasn’t lying, I love you so much and I’ve been too afraid to admit it to myself, let alone to you. I want to be with you Jaemin, nothing else feels right.”

“So um...yeah that’s it I think,” Mark finishes, losing his momentum. “That’s how I feel, if you don’t feel the same way it’s chill––”

“Mark stop talking.” Jaemin cuts in. 

Mark deflates, “Oh, okay.” He says shakily, bracing himself for Jaemin’s next words.

Jaemin steps forward. He brings his hands and closes them over Mark’s fist, gently rubbing his thumbs over his knuckles until he opens them up. When he does, Jaemin links their fingers together. He watches Mark carefully. 

“I think this is the first time I’ve seen you cry.” Mark didn’t realise he was crying, he lifts one of his hands up, still interlinked with Jaemin, and feels the dampness at his cheek.

Jaemin hums quietly, “Second, actually, if we count your drunk crying in my car.” 

Mark realises that him and Jaemin were strangely similar. 

Jaemin’s eyes are fierce with certainty when he speaks again, “This was always real for me.”

He let’s go of Mark’s hands and brings his arms around his waist, pulling Mark closer.

“It was always real for me too,” Mark replies.

Jaemin leans in, eyes fluttering closed as he lays a kiss on Mark’s lips. It’s gentle, soft, it’s a promise.

When he pulls away he’s smiling, “Okay,”

“That’s it? _Okay?”_ Mark asks, unsure.

“I love you, Mark and you’re forgiven or whatever, I just missed you, so come inside.”

He pulls Mark into the apartment and shuts the door behind them.

“Wait but–” He’s cut off as Jaemin presses another kiss to his mouth, something more firm, more inviting. “We still need to talk.” He says against Jaemin’s lips.

“Talking is lame,” Jaemin mumbles back, pushing Mark against the door and smiling when he hears the satisfying _thud._

“Jaemin.”

The other boy sighs, pulling away and giving Mark a pointed look. 

“You’re aware I’m going away for six months?” He asks,

Mark nods.

“And you’re still willing to do this?”

“Yes.” Mark says with all the certainty he could muster.

“And you promise not to run away with shit gets hard.”

“I promise,” 

“I also promise not to run away when things get hard.” He brings his pinky up and raises an eyebrow at Mark. The other boy giggles lightly and links his own pinky with Jaemin. 

Jaemin smiles, “Okay, we’re boyfriends now.” 

“Just like that?” Mark asks, Jaemin traces his fingers over Mark’s cheekbone. 

“Just like that.”

Jaemin leans in to kiss Mark again and he doesn’t interrupt this time. He let’s Jaemin deepen the kiss, let’s his hands wander. Mark presses his own hand against Jaemin’s chest, feeling the boy’s heartbeat under his palm. He smiles into this kiss. Jaemin was alive under his fingertips. This felt right, this felt real.

***

The next morning, Mark wakes up to an empty bed. Sunlight creeps through the cracks in the curtains and Mark sleepily reaches across the bed to find the other side cold. He opens his eyes and he’s still in Jaemin’s apartment, but there was no Jaemin. He rubs his eyes, feeling lethargic, the past few weeks of stress catching up to him and settling in between his bones. 

He reaches for his phone and sees a sticky note shaped like a strawberry attached to the screen. He smiles as he reads the scratchy handwriting. 

_I tried to wake you up before I left but you sleep like the dead ^–^ (you look like you need the extra rest anyway). I made you breakfast, remember to lock the door on your way out, I love you Markie see you soon!!! <3 <3 <3 _

Mark carefully peels the sticky note away from his screen and puts it in his phone case, for safekeeping of course. He turns on his phone to text Jaemin that he was awake, he loves him too and to have a safe flight.

Mark may not be seeing Jaemin in person for a long while, but he found he didn’t mind so much. He was hopeful. He was excited. They were going to be okay. 

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading, let me know your thoughts! big thanks to sam and athen <3
> 
> you can find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/smartlcve)


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